Categories

Meta

It’s been a busy 5 months. How does one time travel so fast? I do take steps to be present as often as possible but you still find yourself wondering how you ended up in the moment you are currently experiencing. I suppose this feeling is exaggerated when a lot is going on. Which it has! I found love and she loves me! I spent April with a laser focus that I had not seen probably since attacking my first 100 miler. I met a lovely lady who I just knew I had to pursue the moment I met her. It is staggering to imagine how capable the human spirit is when you truly want something. Insomnia, insecurity, society: you are no match for love. And there you have it. No need to go in complete detail other than I found a special someone who I’ve searched (possibly waited?) for who has become an essential part of this humbled life.

April. The best month of the year. It’s Spring. Texas has chilly mornings, warm days, and cool evenings. Perfect, don’tcha think? It’s also just happens to be the month that I removed myself from the womb thirty-two years ago. Thanks for creating me, Mom and Dad. Spring is indeed my favorite season of them all if you couldn’t tell. The fauna and flora bloom life and the weather cries, “Come outside you human animal”. To say to the least, avoiding trail running last year was a bitch and also a valuable lesson of patience.

April 2016-Now.

My running career has taken a new evolution. For awhile there in 2015, I thought perhaps that running may have to be retired from life. I really contemplated this. It was a combination of accepting my less than optimal/banged up body and this change demanded new avenues for health. It wasn’t so bad. I learned how to get lean again on a minimal amount of swimming, body weight lifting combined with a diet to compliment this regimen. There was still some Brandon Ostrander attitude thrown in the new program, but it was a dialed down version in comparison to the “work out like tomorrow is never promised” mindset of 2012-2014. Smarter and more efficient. Running would just have to be more casual. The end of a beautiful romance. Thanks for the memories.

Well it looked like the universe had a different plan for me. Perhaps a few miles were still left in the engine. Somehow I was talked back into trail running towards the end of 2015. Going into January 2016, my form wasn’t flawless but overall seemed to be shaping up rather nicely right until the last few days of that month. Knowing the warning sides, I immediately scaled back in February. Well right around the same time, I was offered a part time coaching position with Rogue/Spectrum. So coincidences are coincidences, but as I’ve hinted before in some of my former posts, the more I get in touch with nature/meditation, the less these coincidences feel like random chances. Call me delusional but so far delusional’s working. So with careful consideration, I accepted the position. It was presented on a silver platter and all too, “Brandon, right here. It’s yours. You’re basically ignorant if you don’t do this”.

So here I am in my favorite month of the year. I’m running slightly better and trying out some new therapy that I would have never considered if I never took this position. While still cautious due to the program draining my wallet, I have an overall good feeling about the help I’m receiving. It seems like for the first time my specialist knows what the hell he’s talking about. Overall I feel very positive and enthusiastic about life. After some dark years and creaky months, I’m ready to this life to it’s full potential and infect everyone in my circumference with this attitude. Don’t know what it is exactly, but things just feel like they are falling into place lately.

It’s been almost 3 weeks since the last update! What a slacker I’ve been! I swear I have a long list of excuses for you! In a Nutshell, I started my coaching gig 2 weeks ago, parted ways (at least in one form)with someone close to me and have been holding on for the ride. Being the person I am, I prefer to be in control of the ride, but there’s usually a less than stellar result. Injuries are about the same. Not getting better, but eh, not getting worse. Sleep has been harder to come by these days (not that I ever really get good sleep), but you may already gather why. So in result, my mind has been foggy, fatigue has hit it’s hardest in a while and I feel like I’ve been floating through the last few weeks. It’s a”I’m getting by, but I”m making no foward progress”-State and frankly it’s unacceptable. When talking to my meditation pals, they usually will have some type of explanation regarding how this is apart of my path. I know that I don’t have everything in my control, but paradoxically, I’m told that destiny is embraced by action. Well which goddamn way is it? Rather than sit on this question and go crazy, I plan to further my mind/body disciplines. Increasing sleep, therefore increasing energy, therefore increasing focus should only enhance my meditation experiences. After all, you’re not really meditating if you’re falling asleep meditating. I have experienced a lot of change in personality in a year+ from meditation and the people I associate with, but have also plateaued in my practice. It definitely is a conflict of time (which supposedly doesn’t exist in the spirit world) but you must also play by this world’s rules and it’s creation of time. Luckily, time is on my side since the development of romance is on pause. Although, my heart knows that it will not be another 7 years. I’m just well….human.

So I don’t think there’s anything else to say. My plan is to make the best of this coaching experiencing and mitigate any negativity from my current state that would get in the way of this fantastic opportunity. I’m running when I can. I’m experimenting with traditional Indian and Chinese medicinal herbs in my journey to find proper sleep and reduce overall inflammation in the body. I’m also reducing the coffee! It’s been about a month since I’ve had an evening cup (with the exception of the occasional Saturday), and while I’ve seen zero improvement in my sleep, I at least know I have control over my consumption. I am now in the process of kicking the afternoon cup and replacing with hot cacao. Not ready to completely say good buy to delicious dark robust concoctions from the Southern America’s. Sorry Tea. Last not but not least, I’m back into the music production game…again. Hey, while I’m inconsistent, it’s better than stopping completely. Stay tuned for new jams. New emotions means new music, baby! Oh yeah. Today I started a daily sleep/diet/supplement log describing how I feel through out the day. I am hell bent on making this habit. And while I’m here, I’ll just reiterate how good it feels to write again! You may be thinking how unfocused these thoughts are and now you know the current state of my mind. Back to the journey, folks!

So a lot has happened in the last two weeks. First, I’ve taken a coaching position with Rogue Running’s Spectrum Trail Racing Division. I have a good friend to thank for this as it nearly laid in my lap. While a part time endeavor, it gives me a chance to apply what I’ve learned in the last five years from Ultra Running in the eyes of a trainer. In addition, I’ve taken their offer to race under the Spectrum name. This is the first time I’ll be on a trail running team. Considering I haven’t run an Ultra since October of 2014, I couldn’t think of better encouragement to get me to Hell’s Hills 2016.That being said, I have a lot to offer from my experience. Even the things I learned from my down time.

That being said, after some hard miles with Anthony at Bull Creek, I’m more or less injured again.After a hard 13 mile bout at Bull Creek, a new sharp pain awakened from the middle of my inner right leg extending into my ankle and toe. After a day off, the pain was manageable and I thought an easy excursion through the lightly technical Walnut Creek would be a perfect run. Still some pain, but nothing too bad. After a restless night of insomnia, I decided another easy run through tha Nut wouldn’t hurt. It turns out the pace went to an 8:45/min mile (not slow for me) and wasn’t easy on me at all. It’s completely staggering how anguish can transform into furious energy. Lo and behold, I was hurting even more. Luckily, I had an invitation to Athletic Outcome’s recovery lounge (a perk for racing with Spectrum). They threw me into an ice bath straight out of high school track for 10 minutes and then threw me into some fancy automated compression boots known as Recovery Pump’s. I had seen these suckers in magazines before and brushed them off as solely a luxurious experience. I was wrong. Not only are they a luxurious experience, but there was a noticeable recuperating effect from the device. We live in the future, folks. So I could only expect a miracle from a session of this. A day later that same pain would return on a tuesday night test run on tha Nut. And when I thought I hadn’t learned enough, I decided to do the Spectrum coaching speed work out that following morning (the work out I’ll take over in march). This time, I didn’t mess around. The body hated the speed focused downhill work out and it was time to pull E-brake half way through. I was glad I was no longer twenty-seven and trying to persevere through it. I used this opportunity to chat with Jonathan and listen to a sample of his coaching wisdom. I really like his chill approach to the program. He’s very good at holding the group’s attention considering how relaxed he is. Being used to some real characters as coaches, I definitely think he has a Zen thing going on. I’m learning.

Nope, it’s not a cult, Odalys.

Fast forward to today, Wednesday 2/17/16. After another sleepless night and worry whether or not I would or should participate in the 2 mile time trial, I took the plunge despite a painfully tight right calf this morning(it’s always different shit!). Folks would ask what kind of goal I was attempting and I replied, “To run this as healthy as possible”. We showed up to Austin High School on a crisp 50 degree morning when it was still dark. It looked like Gilbert’s Gazelle’s would be joining us for some company. We began some track drills on the grass that brought back memories of the speed work outs I did with Al’s Ship of Fool’s. I did a few of my own body squats and decided I was about as warmed up as I could get out there. I was ready to get this shit over and done with which is maybe why I lined myself up at the front. We took off, and two gentlemen named Allen and Erick shot out at at the front of the pack. I accelerated myself to a pace slightly less than theirs. I felt better than I previously thought while remaining cautiously optimistic. I wasn’t so much chasing them as much as I was trying to calibrate my body to a work out I hadn’t done in years. After the first two laps, things started feeling familiar and my legs hit a stride I had been out of touch with for far too long. I definitely felt the fatigue, but I would ease the discomfort by zoning my gaze at the Mopac bridge up above. I watch the day’s first cars travel to their day jobs as the sun peaked above the earth. The experience was rather surreal. More and more, my stride and heavy breathing reminded me of my time in high school track. I finished the first mile in about six minutes and it felt so good to have it behind me. I was starting to strategize the remaining run. This happens usually when I become less survival and more competitive. Eric was in front of Allen, but I couldn’t exactly pick him out amongst the darkness and other runners. Allen was in plain site by lap two of my second mile. I decided that I was healthy enough to chase him. Lap three of the second mile as always is usually the second toughest lap of them all. You are trying to remain consistent on tired legs but also keeping in mind that you want energy in the bank to speed burst through that final lap. A “secret weapon” of mine. I brushed as much discomfort away as possible through the mind techniques I’d learned from meditation. By the end of lap three I had caught up to Allen and dropped the hammer. In a moment of disorientation, I shouted, “Last one, right????!!?”. Allen confirmed this and I shot off with legs heavily consumed in lactic acid. I began to lap some of my fellow group mates. Whether or it not it sounds bad, lapping other runners is always a mental boost that pushes you past your pain threshold. In the final lap, I got that feeling of weak bowels in the moment of significant fatigue. It always happens when I put it more than quality work. I pushed through the last one hundred meters by resurrecting the sights and sounds of my former track meets. Heavy applause, deafening cheer and energy surged from the crowds as my legs melted into the rubber track. Mom was there screaming, “Give it all you got, Brandon!”. You always cheered me through all eight laps, mom. Thank you.

As of now, Bull Creek has become standard in my training regimen. If I was restricted to one trail in the Austin area for training, it would be this one.As far as technical running, this one has it. It’s got shade, it’s got climbing ,it’s got decent views and rock hopping that you do not want your mind wandering away from. My fellow trail running geeks and I label it as, “gnar”.

Bull Creek has the capability to connect into the Forest Ridge Nature Preserve and this preserve connects into St. Edwards. If you were to go to the very end of St. Ed’s and turn around, you’d be able to pull off about 16 miles. This route will give you about 1600 ft. of gain give or take depending on whether you can confidently trust the Strava phone APP. It’s still not quite mountain running, but I would go as far as comparing it a significant portion of the Boulder Skyline Traverse.

So my first day of the week was met with a very nice run in good old Bullcreek. I told my lady I was anxiously anticipating this run since Anthony casually mentioned that I would meeting up with some of his new training partners. I liked how he never explicitly said I was going out with fast runners. Very methodical and business-like. Probably in my best interest. I pulled up to the “unofficial trailhead” next to a Subaru showered in a multitude of outdoor-related stickers and a young man wearing a “Trail Root’s” trucker hat. Outdoor stickers and trucker hats seem to be all the rage these days with young outdoorsy folk. No judge. Actually, I’m pretty fascinated by the culture. I yelled, “What’s up, man!” through his closed window and didn’t realize I was barging in on a phone conversation. I mouthed, “My bad” and went to my car to remove my slave uniform and put on my freedom gear (i.e. short shorts).His name was Jacob and we exchanged various trail running qualifications. Anthony and another slim young man pulled up in the mean time. It was the first time I was on time for a work out with Anthony in a long while. I exchanged hand shakes with Anthony and “Doug”. More qualifications were exchanged and I became more intimidated about what I was getting into as I discovered these young men defected from the road.

We hiked down to the trail and performed our first act of of business. A good piss. After relieving ourselves, we “triangulated” our tracking devices and Anthony was off at the lead of the pack. I quickly volunteered to take the back as there’s nothing I dislike more than having to force an uncomfortable pace at the start of a run. The pace was no bullshit. I sometimes never get how they can jump start their engines like that. It’s like they turn on Porsche 911 Engines and go from 0-60 in five seconds. My engine’s more like one that needs to be running five to ten minutes after the night of a Texas freeze. Regardless, I was in a relatively positive mind set and welcomed this as a good training opportunity. Right from the start, my hydration vest’s fit was off kilter. How the hell did this happen? I hadn’t touched it almost 48 hours. I was trying to correct an annoying bounce, sustain a brisk pace and mind every foot fall. It was a rough start. I let the group know what was happening and prayed I would not miscalculate any of my steps. It would not be pretty if I did.

Credit: Google Images (because I have a bad habit of not snapping photos)

We quickly descended what was becoming the usual route down “Space Mesa”. The boys chatted like the pace was just another day. I remained focused and had to treat it like a chase more than a leisurely trot. We arrived at the entrance to Forest Ridge and while the sun was going down, I was surprised how much daylight was still left. We were moving. Forest ridge starts with some technical climbing and a they charged up at a tempo pace from my perspective. A few of the boys activated their head lamps and I kept mine off. We arrived at the base of our first significant climb and the pace accommodated it. In other words, we slowed down, but there was no sacrifice in effort. With allergies in full swing, I hacked, grunted and coughed my way up. My body was starting to hate this. The young guns were beginning to pull away, and just like in racing, I had to fight off the negativity that comes with falling behind. The game is preventing your mind from going into darkness. Besides, you never know if the man/woman in front of you is having their own inner battle. I may have slowed down, but I turned up the dial on my stubbornness. A personal flaw I use to my advantage. Breathless and a heart on the verge of bursting through the chest like a Xenomorph, I arrived at the top less than 10 seconds behind my partners. I re-joined the group and caught myself getting a slightly bitchy mood. “What the F, guys! Trying to get some water here!”, as they returned to full pace upon my arrival. Little fuckers. Without recovery, my inner stubbornness kept up with them in my least favorite portion of the trail, the fire road. It was at that moment I finally started contributing some conversation without worrying about sacraficing precious oxygen. I told them a little bit about my Bandera 100K experience at the beginning of 2013.

In the middle of the conversation, Doug’s headlamp decided to go out. We continued on like it was of no importance. Talking and maintaining a quick pace, I was surprised how fast we traversed the fire road and entered St. Ed’s. Anthony asked if we should do a loop through St. Ed’s and with half my mind, I said yes like I had some other choice. We bombed a downhill portion of St. Eds and out of the darkness, a blonde woman in typical gym-babe attire manifested out of complete nothingness. She looked startled as four half naked and brightly lit young men came charging down the steep hill. Letting her calm her nerves, we found out that she got turned around during sunset. We offered to trot with her until we found her ride. She was good looking, but the other guys pounced on her in an excited conversation the way a Boy Scout does after a week of Summer Camp. I let them be. Through the grapevine, I found out she was visiting from Alaska and had been out here for a major portion of the day checking out Austin’s better trails. This was someone’s perfect outdoor wife prospect.

We dropped off the lost Alaskan babe and made our way uphill in the direction towards our cars. In the mean time, I started feeling good down hill and a Flow state came about me. It felt good enough for me to take the lead. The climb up the limestone shelf’s felt efficient and natural. We left St. Edwards in what felt like record time and re-entered Forest Ridge to take the other trail down hill which negated the fire road (thank god). Again, I got brave and began bombing down some steep hills with grace. I was beginning to get away from the group so I slowed down a bit. I soon realized that I wasn’t moving as fast as I thought. Doug was having some issue with out the use of his head lamp and it only made sense on this kind of terrain in this kind of darkness. I decided to enjoy the blessed Flow state for a little while longer until we re-entered Bull Creek where I decided it was my turn to assist Doug. Anthony took over as lead and I helped Doug by lighting the tight corners on the switchbacks. This involved varying my pace a bit, and timing my head turn soon enough to light up any possible treachery. There was no doubt a risk of eating ground myself during this session. On top of this Doug, was feeling the burn of the trail and was losing his form. I would later find out that Doug ran the 3M half marathon the day before in what I’m sure was an impressive time. Jesus.The head turns were taking a toll on me and the need to get Doug out of the darkness was feeling greater. Anthony would say, “Just a little further”, but this statement is always up for interpretation. We arrived at the relief of the trail head. Jacob immediately took for his car. Something about worrying his wife. The run had us sitting on the man hole that I crashed my Honda Civic into a few weeks earlier. We shared the comradery of suffering together. While I wanted to run fast the entire way back, I’m glad I was able to get Doug back to his car safely. Much better than carrying him out. It was indeed a fascinating 12.5 miles.

I’ve spent most of the week fighting allergies or some kind of upper respiratory infection. In summary, I generally feel drained and I’m hacking up an alien fluid from the depths of my esophagus. Combining this with a thorough body-weight circuit, it certainly made my night at Walnut a semi-slog. Anthony planted the idea-seed in my head that I should be moving fast through tha Nut since my last 3 sessions were on hilly/technical terrain . I went out fatigued but otherwise dug deep for a consistent 11 mile run. What I thought as screaming fast was otherwise proved incorrect by Strava. Regardless, was a solid training bout on tired legs and tight right hip flexor.

Regarding Strava:

Hmm Strava. I’m still a little suspicious of the app. For starters, the last Canyonlands trip recorded 2400 ft gain while the data from Anthony’s Suunto watch calculated 1800 ft of gain. Another example of inaccuracy is knowing I ran a familiar ll mile course last night. On the other hand, Strava recorded 8.9 miles total distance. These are huge gaps! What’s up Strava?

01/19/15

Feeling even stronger:

Went out to run Bull Creek to the trail head at St. Eds and back. While Strava tells me my avg pace/mile was 10:30 something, I felt amazing. I felt like I used to. Strong, mobile and confident, I traversed some rather challenging trails with less struggle compared to say, New Years Eve. The weather was in the low 50’s, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and I was actually having a good time the entirety of the run. There was a general lightness to every step. I hadn’t run like this in over a year! A very solid 14 mile adventure.

The ground looks flat, but the photo is deceiving. This ancient machine is tipped over on the side of a steep incline almost at the top of a ridge line. Makes you wonder how the hell it got there. This isn’t the only ancient machine that can be found in Bull Creek.

01/16/15

Went out to the Canyonlands for a skirmish with my semi-regular training partner, Anthony. I showed him more of what we call the Rim trail which I had discovered on my solo outing. In addition, we found a short little tangent that would keep us from back tracking a mile or so. In the end, we created a nice, almost 16 mile out and back with limited time spent on the Jeep trails. That kept me happy! I initially felt sluggish but my energy came back with a vengeance until we pulled over several times for the Mountain biking kiddos near the end. But hey, I’m happy the kiddos are getting out there.Almost 2 K worth of gain depending on who’s Strava you go by. Although, I think I’ll trust Anthony’s over mine!

New Years Eve channeled my inner savage that left me feeling rough the next few days. With a hang over and a heart wrenching good-bye, the first day of 2016 was a complete wash. On the second day of 2016, I managed to coerce my depleted body to crank out meditation, swimming and a body weight session. It was hell, but would have felt more like hell if I did neither of these. At the New Year’s Eve Bull Creek/St Ed’s journey, I hastily accepted Anthony’s invitation to go to the Canyonlands in Lakeway that coming weekend. That being said, my mind and body subtly hinted relief on the hilly trails of West Central Texas.

Our car drive would take us a little further from our local running hang outs. We ventured toward lake territory via 620 on a late partly cloudy morning. As Anthony’s Subaru climbed the highway, I noted that it had been awhile since I had been out in this direction. It was easy to forget how beautiful this part of town was. We turned into a well-manicured neighborhood that promised a trail head while making a few comments about the excess of privileged clientele.We pulled into a parallel parking spot accompanied by a pool and a water treatment plant. I suited up, took a few last bites of a Quest bar, and was off chasing Anthony from the get go. This gentleman ran a 4:30 marathon the day before. Now this may not sound like something to brag about, but it was accomplished on a little known trail known as Goodwater. To this day, this trail remains one of the most technical trail ones on my list. This include the ones I’ve scouted in Arizona, Colorado, and California. It’s like doing tire drills for 20 miles and finding a rhythm will leave you exhausted. Anthony was killing it.

I immediately felt the body weight work out from the day before. It was the side lunges! Fatigued and sore, the insides of my legs made me drag ass. Anthony’s not a big fan of slowly ramping up into a run so I dug deep to keep him in my sites. Whenever I caught up to him, our conversations consisted of the following :

“Which way?”, he asked.

“That way?”, I replied.

This was an exploration run. No target. The terrain was VERY central Texas but not as unforgiving as Bull Creek. My inadequately shodded feet were managing. Barely. The trail side-winded down hill seemingly going in one direction. We eventually came to the base of a significantly sized hill garnished with power lines.

“This must be Mt. Lakeway”, I concluded.

Anthony attacked the hill with grace and I did my best to re-enact his approach. Some of the rocky terrain transitioned to a mulch of some sort and increased the difficulty of the climb. Our run quickly turned into a march and I noticed a set of switchbacks adjacent to our climb. We must have been taking the shorter but more challenging route. My theory was confirmed after greeting a couple of fellow trail runners descending it. “I want to take that trail down when we get to the top!”, I said.

Mt. Lakeway Peak

I wouldn’t be able to tell you the grade of our climb, but our exhalations were a clear indicator. I noted to Anthony that this grade was very similar to a climb in the Mogollan 100 with the exception that Mogollan’s hill was a Mountain and at least 4 times longer. This hill would make exceptional Mountain Ultra training. Gasping for air, we reached the peak of Mount Lakeway, and I humbly requested a photo of my “accomplishment”. I climbed big hill today. This will go on Facebook. I am so Outdoorsy, World. Anthony obliged my wishes and we rode the switch backs down. I did some half-enthusiastic hoots and hollars as the descent reminded me of mountain running. I felt like I was descending a miniature Mt. Morrison or Pike’s Peak from my days in Colorado. You actually had time to enjoy the ride down in comparison to most of Central Texas’ very steep yet brief descents. What a breath of fresh air.

We arrived at the base of Mt. Lakeway and randomly chose a jeep road as our next avenue. The road lacked any character but circumnavigated the base of the “Mountain” until we were on the back side of it. There were two ways to go back up the hill if that was indeed our prerogative. We had another switch back path or we could go straight up. Anthony felt that we had not accumulated enough vertical so I followed him up the hard way. The back side of Mt. Lakeway’s climb was shorter and I wasn’t disappointed by this as my heart beat like a war drum. After a few necessary long breaths, we road the backside switchback down to where we started.

Anthony discovered another trail in the same trajectory. It took us into some shaded trails similar to the Mountain Bike/BMX trails you find in Walnut Creek, Cameron Park and Rocky Hill Ranch. Still muddy from the previous night’s rain, the trails provided a different challenge and a change of pace. We climbed another set of shorts witch backs to a summit accompanied by a roaring sound. “Was that water?”, I thought. We headed in the direction of the sound until we abruptly ran into an overhead view of Highway 71. Goddamn development…. After some aimless wondering that drew us closer towards the highway, we voted to turn around and find something more promising.

After re-treading the mud, we regrouped at the start of the jeep trail. Anthony took us off in a direction that had some gradual gain. I was starting to feel fatigued and it mentally doubled when Anthony stated we had only run 6 miles at this point. Trail running is deceiving like that. Stubbornly, I continued up with Anthony, hoping we’d find something worth the struggle. There’s something about fire roads that I find so uninteresting and life sucking. It’s very similar to my mental struggle with running on pavement. Alas, my prayers were answered by the discovery of a narrow path hanging on the side of a hill and veering to the left. While tired, I had a difficult time refusing the sight of new single track that seemed to wander….somewhere.

Once again, we were treated to Mountain-esque trail running. Gradual and well-carved, the trail snaked around the side of the hill. It ventured far off in the distance giving you promise to what lied ahead. Such a rarity in this state!

“How the hell did I not know about this place sooner?”, I shouted.

The route gave me a fresh surge of energy and I was having a damn good time. We continued to wind through the foothills while noting the development of a neighborhood down below.

“Better enjoy this while we still can!”, I commented.

Our path eventually led us to the peak of a hill accompanied by a fork in the road. We took a left, but the trail routed us right back to the fork. This appeared to to be the end of the line for this trail.

Anthony brought up a path he saw branching off the single track a mile back. Seemingly with out options, we headed back in the direction we came. We shortly arrived at the tangent and rode it down to the bottom. We agreed that it headed in the direction of a water tower that had been used as a landmark to keep our bearings straight. The energy surge was starting to deteriorate. It wasn’t exactly a hot day, but I had a feeling we weren’t as close to the car as my body wanted to be. “Should I eat my Questbar? I kind of want to save it”. These were the thoughts going through my head. It was definitely that point in the run where our frequencies aligned and we had seen enough. After a few short detours (thanks to the citizens), we eventually found our path way to the Subaru. Anthony fired his after burners and I emptied what was left in my tank. It was that point in the run where you think, “Hell yeah, just a few more steps to food and my ass on the ground”. I reconvened with Anthony at the car and we commenced the traditional Broseph High Five Ritual.

“Good run, man. That was fun”, Anthony said.

On the drive home we shared our excitement of a promising new trail with ample training opportunity. Pizza was next on our agenda.